


pretty damn close to perfect

by thepensword



Series: TAZ Pride Week 2018 [2]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Day 6: Marriage/Proposal, Engagement, F/F, Marriage Proposal, TAZ Pride Week, TAZ Pride Week 2018, Team Sweet Flips, girls being gay, i know i rated it g but there is some cursing sorry, other characters make brief appearances towards the end but those are the main ones, proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-24 02:49:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14946182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepensword/pseuds/thepensword
Summary: The falling was slow at first, and then all at once. It was toeing the edge of a precipice for weeks and weeks and then one day Killian walks into the training room wearing a tank top and grinning widely and Carey thinks,fuck.There’s something about a woman with biceps as large as your head and thighs as large as your torso that makes a girl go weak at the knees. It’s not her fault; she’s a sensible Dragonborn. It’s just that she happens to be a very, very gay one.





	pretty damn close to perfect

**Author's Note:**

> mmmm not super sure how i feel about some of the characterizations in this but whatever
> 
> TAZ Pride Week Day 6: Marriage/Proposal

The falling was slow at first, and then all at once. It was toeing the edge of a precipice for weeks and weeks and then one day Killian walks into the training room wearing a tank top and grinning widely and Carey thinks, _fuck._

There’s something about a woman with biceps as large as your head and thighs as large as your torso that makes a girl go weak at the knees. It’s not her fault; she’s a sensible Dragonborn. It’s just that she happens to be a very, very gay one.

And at first it’s a little bit scary and a little bit strange, but that’s alright because it’s also a little bit wonderful. For a while, it’s just the two of them, flirting and fighting and teasing and training, and then there’s Magnus, and Noelle, and then it’s the end of the world.

As everything comes crashing down around them, Carey is filled with regret for all the things she failed to say and do. Killian is struck down by a blow she cannot see coming and Carey _screams_.

She makes a promise that day, to herself and to the unconscious Killian: a promise to never wait again for something that she could have at once, if she were not so afraid to reach for it. The ring is waiting there, in that rough-hewn duck box in the dark space beneath her bed, because she had been too much of a coward to bring it out into the light. _This isn’t the time,_ she’d thought. _It has to be perfect_.

And then there is almost never going to be another time ever again, and fuck it, perfection is overrated anyway.

 

* * *

 

 

Carey finds him in the shed.

He’d built the shed himself, filled it with workbenches and tools of every shape and size. The roof is painted a vibrant green like sunshine through a forest canopy and light filters through the large windows he’d built into the walls. Those windows are open, now, and she can hear him working from several yards away.

He looks up at her when she comes in, setting aside his hammer and grinning widely. “Carey!” he says. He looks just about as pleased to see her as she is to see him, even though the last time they saw each other was at training yesterday.

“Hey, Magnus,” says Carey. “What are you making?”

“A chair.” He rubs sweat away from his brow and smiles. “I only made four to begin with, but clearly that was a mistake because everyone’s always here. I dunno why I thought they’d all stay mostly in their own houses.”

“You did live together for a hundred years,” Carey points out. “And they do all have magical transportation capabilities.”

Magnus laughs. “That they do,” he says, and holds his arms out for a hug. Carey moves into it, of course, and his embrace is as warm and strong as he is.

“What are you here for?” asks Magnus after he releases her, eyebrows raised above his smile. “I have a feeling it’s not just a friendly visit.” He feigns disappointment at that, but his eyes are sparkling and Carey suspects he already knows what she’s going to say.

“I wanted it to be perfect,” she says, pushing herself up by her arms to sit on a nearby worktable. “Because _she’s_ perfect. But we almost, died, Mango, and I’m done waiting.”

He nods. (He knows. He had a wife, once. Of course he knows the value of time.)

“So you want my help,” says Magnus. “Alright, lay it on me. What are you thinking?”

She tells him. Even if she’s tired of waiting for perfect, she’s determined to make it pretty damn special.

 

* * *

 

 

“Wanna train?” asks Carey, and of course Killian agrees. Then she says, “Wanna train outside today? We can go down to that park you like, with the duckpond.” And Killian smiles because she knows that in this case ‘training session’ is a synonym for ‘date’.

So they go to that one park with the duckpond and they train beneath the sun until Carey trips Killian and Killian grabs Carey for balance and somehow they both end up lying in the grass with their backs pressed to the earth and their hands intertwined. A duck calls loudly from the pond and Carey thinks about the box she’d made with Magnus, and the ring he’d given her to put inside it.

She’d ended up wimping out and giving Killian a new set of knives for her birthday, because she hadn’t been ready to give her the ring and it seemed wrong to separate it from the duck box. They’d been made together and they should be given together.

The box is in her bag, lying just a few feet away, and the ring is inside it. Everything is ready; Magnus had promised it would be, and she trusts him.

It’s time. Maybe it’s not perfect, but who can ever really say what perfect really is? And with Killian beside her, maybe this is as close to perfect as she’ll ever get.

“Killian,” says Carey, and sits up. She doesn’t let go of Killian’s hand, large and warm in hers. It makes an interesting contrast, green skin and thick fingers against turquoise scales and gold-orange claws. They are the puzzle pieces that are always the most surprising; the ones that maybe don’t look like they should fit, but slot together so perfectly it is like they were never apart at all.

Killian raises an eyebrow and sits up with her. Carey swallows down nerves and reaches for her bag, breaking the clasp of their fingers only so she can pull out the duck box, wrapped in canvas. “This is for you,” she says. “I made it.” A beat. “Well, Magnus helped.”

Killian unwraps the canvas and pulls out the duck and smiles brighter than the sun above them. “Carey, this is beautiful!” she says. “I _love_ ducks! But if you don’t mind me asking, what’s the occasion—”

“Open it,” says Carey, breathless. Killian pauses, and looks at her, and then slowly, slowly opens it.

Colors bloom in the sky above them: vibrant pinks and deep purples and swirling blues, rainbow clouds dotted with sparkling gold like stars, even in the daylight. Spectral ducks fly overhead, and sickeningly romantic violin music starts to play at a volume that scares the actual ducks out of the pond. Killian looks stunned, and beautiful. There are tears in her eyes.

(Carey thinks offhandedly that Magnus did his job exceptionally well. It can’t have been easy to organize this, especially with how rowdy she knows their friends can be.)

Killian pulls out the ring.

“Killian,” says Carey. She reaches out and grasps Killian’s hand between both of hers, so that they’re both touching the ring, so that they’re close enough to hear each other’s breathing. Carey’s heart is fast-beating in her chest but she’s sure in this moment that this is exactly what perfection feels like and she knows she was a fool to wait for it. “Will you marry me?”

And Killian smiles with tears in her eyes and laughs softly and then, looking as if she has just been handed the world, slides the ring onto her finger and says, emphatically, “ _Fuck yes_.”

Fireworks explode in the sky above them.

 

* * *

 

 

The party is loud and chaotic and overwhelming. It is housed beneath the wood roof of a nearby park shelter, enchanted lights bobbing up and down like stars to illuminate the people congregated beneath it. The air is filled with laughter and music and the alluring smell of Taako Original Food™ drifts along the breeze.

“Congratulations!” shouts Merle. He’s definitely drunk.

Carey beams and shakes his hand when he offers it. His grip is a little too enthusiastic. Behind him, Taako rolls his eyes and lifts his champagne glass in the air.

“Yeah, what he said. Cheers, homie.” He takes a sip and his expression screws up in distaste. “Ugh, gods, did Magnus pick this? This doesn’t pair with the hors d'oeuvres at _all.”_

“Better go tell him, then,” laughs Killian. She hasn’t stopped smiling this entire time.

“You know what?” says Taako. “I will. Ta-ta, lovebirds.” And then he flounces off in usual Taako fashion to go tell off Magnus until he is intercepted by a fond-looking Kravitz.

“What’s the wait time on _that_ engagement, you think?” asks Merle.

“Give it a few months,” says Magnus from where he’s suddenly materialized over Merle’s shoulder. Carey grins at him; Rogue lessons are beginning to pay off. “Hey, guys.”

“ _Magnus_ ,” exclaims Killian. “How long have you known about this?!”

The space between Magnus’ eyebrows crinkles in a knowing fashion. “A while,” he says evasively.

Killian sighs loudly. “I need wine,” she declares. “I’ll be back in a minute, babe.”

“Mmhm.”

They watch her go in silence. Merle regards them thoughtfully for a moment and then wanders off, and Magnus places a warm hand on Carey’s shoulder. “How you feeling?” he asks.

She doesn’t even need to think about the answer. “Amazing,” she says.

“How’s this for perfect?”

Killian has bumped into Lup at the drink table. They’re laughing uproariously at something Lup said, probably at Barry’s expense given his current beet-red complexion. Something softens in Carey’s heart, something warm and soft and a bit like magic.

“I think,” she says, smiling. “Even if this isn’t perfect? It’s pretty damn close.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> that's all! thanks for reading! drop me a comment or visit me on [tumblr](https://thepensword.tumblr.com) and stay tuned for a few more pride fics over the next few days.


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